//------------------------------//
// La Grotte
// Story: Quete
// by Comrade Bagel Muffin
//------------------------------//
Escutcheon got up, his side was killing him and his head was throbbing. The spot where he had set Tilda down was empty. He smiled slightly relieved, so long as she got back he was certain that Pace could heal her. Oddly enough he didn't feel drained, like the last time he had used that spell. Then again he hadn't teleported her half way across the world to some unknown corner of the planet in the middle of nowhere. He still didn't know how much further he could push it after all casting the spell had left him unconscious.
He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath and focused. He needed his things if he was to continue on his journey. He could see it in his minds eye in an upstairs room in a griffon's house. As his things all went back into his bag he began the more difficult part of the spell. "Come here." His voice was barely a whisper. HE could feel his magic pulling his toward him. He was already starting to sweat. He could feel his magic start to slip. If it gave out he'd never find his bag again. "Faster. Faster! Faster!" He watched as it speed toward him ever faster, across the raging quagmire. He could now see the mountain. Wait it's already here. "Slow down. Slow down! Slow down!" His eyes shot open to see the bag come threw the mouth of the cave. It slammed into him knocking him off of his hooves and throwing him the ground. The bag's contents spilled out on the ground. For the second time that day the world faded to black as he fell into unconsciousness. His horn a little charred at the tip. He was definitely burned out now.
He woke up with the headache to end all headaches. Both of his sides were in absolute agony, one where his bag hit him and the other where he was slammed into the ground. The pain congealed into an over all hurting, that just left him laying there crying. He had never felt like this in all of his life. He wished that Mom or Dad would come and hold him that this month long nightmare would be over, that he could finally go home. After an hour he had cried all the tears that he had. He struggled to his hooves and grabbed a bottle filled with a red liquid. He pulled the cork and took a few sips before putting it in his bag.
He began to grab everything and started putting them in his bag. All of his belongings from his old life, when he had a Mother and Father. Everything that he thought that he would need. He put it all into his bag. It wasn't even full anymore. He took his flint and steal and struck them together. His little candle lit up, and after a few minutes of fighting with a rope, candle holder and stick he finally got his light source ready. He headed deeper into the cave. His candle lighting the way, into the dark abyss.
His light pierced darkness of the cave, as he headed in. The cave was devoid of anything except the continuous dripping of water from stalactite. Even the sounds of the storm outside faded away into nothingness in the darkness of the cave. Just like him, he too would soon fade away into the darkness when his little candle went out.
"No." He shook his head side to side. He instantly regretted it as his headache came back with vengeance. "I can get home I just need to go west." He tried to convince himself of that. It was so much hard than it had been only a few days ago. Is home really on the other end of the horizon. The question had haunted him since he had started. It was always there. And even if home was just over the horizon. Would Mother and Father take him back.
His train of thought was brought to an abrupt stop as he stepped on something that snapped under his hooves. It looked like a twig, but it was white and there were so, so many of them.